Hello
by Kakimashou
Summary: Set one year after EW. Heero is working excessively long hours for Preventers. When he is forced to cut back on his hours, he takes up a pastime that leads to new emotional territory. Eventual 1x2. Do not read if you dislike yaoi.
1. Chapter 1

"Hello"

A/N: This fic is inspired by Poe's "Hello". Not really a songfic; if you're not familiar with the song, you might want to look up the lyrics or try to listen to the song – you might hear why it inspired me! Pairings: 1x2, 3x4. Focus is on 1x2. Rating: PG-13? R? Not anticipating any citrus for now. Any citrusy chapters will gain an appropriate warning. Set post-EW. Heero POV. I do not have a beta reader; please forgive any mistakes. Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or any of the characters found therein. This warning applies to all chapters of this story. Although I don't plan on using the lyrics, for what it's worth I also don't own "Hello" by Poe.

CHAPTER ONE

I do not think there is much secret about the fact that I was not supposed to survive the war.

Doctor J taught me many things. How to be the Perfect Soldier. How to not feel. How to kill without remorse. How to lock everything down and be a machine. I was not intended to be much more than a pliable mobile doll. I suspect that, like a machine, I have an off switch somewhere, a self-destruct button waiting to be pushed.

I think J died before he got a chance to flip the switch.

I am not sure whether I would flip the switch if I could find it.

It has been a year since the Mariemeia incident. I joined the Preventers shortly afterward in an attempt to find a way to use my abilities for something greater than myself. I was created and trained for war, not for peace. Although some would say otherwise, I believe that the Preventers are also an organization more suited for war than for peace. We fight so that others may enjoy peace.

All of the other pilots joined the Preventers as well, except for 04, who spends his time running Winner Enterprises.

Everyone assumed that the great Gundam pilots would be sent on missions together. And for the others, that has often been the case. However, Commander Une sends me on solo missions. Preventers believes that agents work better in pairs, that there is more security and a higher success rate when agents are working together. As a result, I was initially sent out with partners. It became clear, however, that the other agents were hampering my abilities and that my presence was distressing to some of the other agents. So now I rarely get partnered with anyone. I take on assignments that even two agents working together would have difficulty completing.

My success rate so far is one hundred percent.

I know Commander Une is no fool. Even with my superior abilities and training, I will eventually fail one of these missions that she sends me on. Not even I can avoid the odds forever.

I wonder if Commander Une also believes there is an off switch somewhere on me.

Perhaps the missions are her way of trying to flip the switch.

Most of the time, I hope she finds it.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

I generally work around one hundred hours each week. I have noticed that this seems to perturb some of my fellow agents. "Yuy, why don't you ask for some time off or go home" is a question that I have heard more than once. I have never bothered to respond. I don't think it would help if I told my fellow Preventers that I do not take time off or go home because there is nothing to go home to.

I was created as a weapon. What does a gun do when it's not being fired? It sits idle. Left too long, it rusts or breaks down. It needs constant cleaning, maintenance, and use in order to be optimal. I am the same. Other than the minimal amount of time I need to sleep, what would I do with "down" time? I am a weapon, a weapon that functions best when it is used constantly, a weapon that might be dangerous if it were allowed to sit idle.

Two days ago, I successfully infiltrated a heavily armed munitions plant on a resource satellite near L3. I completed my mission with minor bruises, a few scrapes, and two broken fingers. The broken fingers meant that I would not be sent out for field work for at least ten days.

So it was that I was pushing papers when Commander Une called me into her office.

Une has not changed much since the war. She still styles her hair the same way, and she still wears glasses. I have concluded that she uses them to hide her eyes. I wonder if it makes it easier for her to do her job, for her to send agents to kill and be killed.

"Agent Yuy."

"Commander Une."

Une's office is a bland government office. Bookcases filled with manuals and field books line the walls. She sits behind a huge wooden desk in a high-backed leather chair. There are very few personal effects in her office. Plaques and framed certificates are scattered sparsely across the walls. The top of her desk holds orderly stacks of paper. There are two small, uncomfortable leather chairs across the desk from her. As I acknowledge her, she waves a hand to indicate that I should sit in one of these chairs.

I cross the room and stiffly sit down. I prefer not to sit in these chairs. They are positioned in such a way that the backs face the only door to Une's office. I have been trained to avoid such a vulnerable position. I have also been trained to follow orders, so I sit in the unpleasant chairs whenever Une tells me to do so. I think she is aware that the chairs make me uncomfortable.

As always, a spot in the middle of my back tenses and itches at the door behind me.

She gazes intently at me for one minute and thirty-seven seconds. I stare flatly back at a point just above her left shoulder. I think she is waiting for me to say something, but I simply stare at my chosen point.

Eventually she clears her throat and begins. "Excellent work on your last mission, Agent Yuy."

"Thank you, Commander."

Another long silence stretches out between us. Une begins shuffling some of the papers in front of her. She is no longer looking at me. I deduce from the quick movements of her hands that she is nervous. Although I give no outward sign, I too am becoming tense. I do not like surprises or unknowns, nor do I enjoy the soft sighs of the papers passing against each other.

Une finally stops shuffling papers and looks up at me. Her face is schooled to stillness, but I read hesitation and a lingering nervousness in her eyes. "Heero, are you happy?"

I frown. Happy? "I do not understand the question, Commander."

Une sighs and leans back in her chair. Now it is she who fixes her eyes at a point beyond me, not meeting my glare. "I mean, is this what you want to do?"

I shift almost imperceptibly in the uncomfortable chair, unsure how to respond. I am not even sure what she is trying to ask me. "No one is forcing me to work here, Commander." My frown deepens. "Do you think that someone is? How would someone accomplish such a thing?"

As I speak, Commander Une closes her eyes and a small wrinkle appears on her forehead. "No, Heero. I did not mean to imply that anyone was forcing you to work here. It's simply that you've been here a year, and you don't seem happy. As far as I can tell, you haven't made any friends here. You don't even seem to have maintained any connections with the other Gundam pilots." Une opens her eyes and looks at that point above my shoulder again. "Yuy, do you know how many hours you've worked, on average, each week over the last twelve months?"

I shrug, confused as to her point. "Perhaps a hundred?"

"One hundred and seven, to be exact." Commander Une's eyes meet mine for the first time during our meeting. "Heero, how many hours are in a week?"

"One hundred and sixty-eight."

"And how far from the office do you live?"

I frown and allow my eyes to slide away from hers. "Fifteen minutes, more or less."

"So you might spend around a half an hour each day getting to and from work?"

"Yes."

"And how many hours do you sleep each night?"

I pause for a moment before answering. I do not like where this conversation seems to be headed. "Approximately six and a half hours."

"And you spend maybe a half an hour each day getting ready for work?"

"More or less."

"So we've established that you spend around seven and a half hours each day getting to and from work, getting ready for work, and sleeping. Assuming you work all seven days of the week, those activities take up… fifty-two and a half hours. Yuy, do you know what one hundred and sixty-eight minus fifty-two and a half is?"

I glare at a point to the right of Commander Une's head. When I don't respond, Commander Une gently says, "One hundred and fifteen and a half. Which means that, on average, you spend just eight and a half hours each week eating lunch and dinner or engaging in non-work activities."

I think that Une's speech is not having the intended effect. Even as she announces that I spend only eight and a half hours each week away from my work, I am thinking of ways to optimize my schedule so that I can reduce those hours away from work.

I cannot be an idle weapon.

When I still say nothing, Commander Une speaks again. "Look at me, Yuy."

I shift my focus to the left so that I am looking into Une's eyes. She looks… sympathetic, or like she pities me. I do not like it.

"Heero, from this moment on, I am setting a cap on the number of hours you may work each week when you are not in the field. Furthermore, you will spend no more than one week of each month on a field assignment. You will also report your progress to me every other week."

"Progress?"

"Yes, Yuy, progress. I want you to develop hobbies other than work. Find interests other than fighting. And every other week, you will come to me and talk about what those hobbies and interests are. Understood?"

"What is the 'cap' on the number of hours I may work?"

"That is a good question. Do you have a suggestion?"

I eye Commander Une suspiciously. Perhaps this will not be so bad if she is willing to allow me to set my own cap. "Eighty-five?"

Une lets out a peal of laughter. I had not intended to humor her, and I scowl at her reaction.

"Nice try, Yuy. Your response indicates to me that you still do not really understand what I am telling you. For now, you will work no more than forty-five hours each week, unless you are on assignment. I will expect your first report regarding your non-work activities at the end of this week. You are dismissed for now." Une picks up a piece of paper on her desk and begins reading it, or at least pretending to do so.

Although she is no longer watching me, I nod curtly before standing up and leaving.

My expression never changes, but inside I am quaking with anxiety, an emotion that I am unused to experiencing. Interests? Hobbies? I have been led to believe that the world is safest from me when I am not left idle. And yet, Commander Une has ordered me to seek out idleness.

I feel lost already.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

There was an email from Commander Une waiting for me when I got back to my desk. She noted that I had already worked fifty-two hours this week, and that I should leave and go home until Friday. She instructed that I come into the office on Friday only to report on my attempts at non-work activities.

I sat and glared at the email on my screen before grunting and shutting the computer down. Had Une not ordered me to go home, I would have stayed at the office and pled ignorance as to the number of hours I had already worked this week.

On the way home, I came to a decision. I will treat this just like any other mission. A mission to find things to do outside of work. A mission that I apparently have no choice about undertaking.

Once home, I retrieved my laptop to work on my mission planning.

I decided to make two lists: a list of hobbies or activities and a list of interests. As I made my lists, I refused to edit myself. If an item occurred to me, I typed it out. After I made the two lists, I went down each and crossed through activities that I simply could not see myself doing. I made notes as to why I crossed off each item, as I thought such information might be useful in the future. In the end, my lists looked like this:

Hobbies/Activities

Tennis – too snobby

Soccer – requires multiple other people to play effectively

Basketball

Weight Training

Swimming – requires swimming pool or other body of water

Baseball – requires multiple other people to play effectively

Football – too much armor/ requires multiple other people to play effectively

Rugby – would require research/ requires multiple other people to play effectively

Marksmanship

Kendo

Karate

Tai Chi

Bowling

Reading

Vid Programs – too little mental activity

Video Games

Chess

Go

Origami

Meditation

Volunteering

Dancing

Clubbing – too much vapid socializing

Traveling

Photography

Writing

Interests

Astro-Physics – know more than anyone could reasonably teach me

Colony History – Doctor J forced me to learn as part of training

Pre-Colony History

Foreign Languages

Music

Art

My two lists completed, I then set about further sorting the lists. Specifically, out of the remaining activities, I examined which activities could be pursued without interacting with other people. I reasoned that all of the interests could be pursued on my own with the use of the vast online ESUN library. The activities that I deemed to be acceptable for solitary practice were: Weight Training, Marksmanship, Tai Chi, Bowling, Reading, Video Games, Origami, Meditation, Traveling, Photography, and Writing. These, then, were the activities that I chose to start with first.

Rather than starting slowly, I decided to load my schedule with as many activities as I deemed feasible. Thus, I decided to do one hour of weight training and one hour of marksmanship each day. Both of those activities could be accomplished at the Preventers training facility. I could only hope that Une did not view the facility as part of work.

I downloaded videos and texts from the ESUN library regarding Tai Chi, bowling, and origami. I decided that once I felt comfortable with the video instructions, I would add an hour of each of these activities to my daily schedule. Any remaining free time would be spent reading.

Given the number of interests and activities that I had come up with, I outlined parameters for mission component success. I would continue with an activity only if I felt that it provided sufficient mental stimulation or provided a demonstrable benefit to my work as a Preventer. The determination as to whether an activity is sufficiently stimulating could only be made after at least two days of attempting the designated activity. I judged this time frame to be perfect for my current circumstances, as I was due to meet with Une for a status update in two days.

* * *

By Friday morning, I had tried Tai Chi, bowling, and origami. I found that I greatly enjoyed Tai Chi and was willing to continue with it. I eliminated bowling after my first trip to a bowling alley. The location was simply too unsecured, with too many distractions and too much open space. I would never be comfortable with such an activity. The origami I initially enjoyed a fair amount, although the paper was difficult to manipulate with my broken fingers. I even went to a specialty store to order paper designed for use in origami. However, after I finished my one hundred and thirty-sixth paper crane, I decided that origami was not mentally stimulating enough for regular daily activity, but was better suited to an hour or two each week. Having ruled out bowling and origami as candidates for spending most of my time, I decided to move on to video games and meditation.

I was pleased to note that I had not yet snapped and gone on a murderous rampage. In fact, other than a vague sense of boredom and unease, I noted no ill effects from my time away from work. Perhaps my fears were unfounded.

Thus armed with information, I went to meet Commander Une.

* * *

When I arrived at Une's office, she was sitting in her chair as usual. This time, she wasn't shuffling the papers in front of her. Instead she was gazing out the only window in her office. She looked up as I entered and gestured to the seats across from her. With a sigh, I sat down.

"So, Heero, how have things been during your time off?"

I gazed stonily at my chosen point to the right of Une's head. "Acceptable."

"Ah. I am glad that things are… 'acceptable.' What have you been doing to occupy your time?"

In response, I told Une about the marksmanship, weight training, Tai Chi, and origami, as well as my failed attempt at bowling. I fervently hoped that she deemed all of this sufficient and sent me back to work my normal hours.

Instead, Une frowned, and that line appeared on her forehead again. "Agent Yuy, I assume you have read the Preventer's Personnel Policy Manual?"

I frowned in response. "I have made myself aware of the relevant provisions contained therein, yes."

"Well, agent, you must have missed some sections during your reading." So saying, Une stood up and retrieved a copy of the manual from behind her. I waited silently as she thumbed through it. "Ah! Here it is. Section 1.046.983: What constitutes billable Preventers work." She handed me the opened book and pointed to the section. "Read it, Agent Yuy."

I quickly read the passage.

"Do you understand why I pointed that passage out to you?"

I glared hard at my chosen spot near Une's head. When I didn't respond, Une said, almost gently, "Heero, working out and practicing with guns explicitly counts as time at work. I'm afraid your time spent weight training and practicing marksmanship will count toward your forty-five hours of permissible work each week. However, I will allow you to continue Tai Chi without counting it as time at work."

"Understood. May I leave now?"

"In a moment." When I glanced at Une, I found that she was once again staring out of her office window. Perhaps she had given up on maintaining eye contact with me while we spoke. "Heero, what I want you to do is find passion outside of work. Something to ground you. What if you were permanently disabled during a mission? What would you do with the rest of your life?" Une turned back to face me and our eyes met as she spoke. "I realize this is frustrating to you. I promise you, though. Find other things to live and breathe for, and you will be a better agent as a result. You will have something real and tangible to fight for. That is why I recommend that you focus on more intellectual pursuits. Any questions?"

When I said nothing, Une nodded. "You are dismissed then. Have a good weekend."

I stood and left Une's office. I no longer had even the hope that she would let me return to working the hours of my choice.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far and to everyone who has added "Hello" to their fanfic alerts! I hope it stays interesting for everyone.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

Less than a week after my Friday meeting with Commander Une, I received an email from Duo. It was the same email that I received from either him or Quatre every month, inviting me to a dinner and night out with the other pilots. A year ago, I had frequently attended these dinners. As time passed, however, I found more and more reasons why I could not attend. It has been months since I last attended one.

I contemplated how to respond to the email. I worried that it might be awkward to meet with the other pilots after I had declined their invitations for so long. In fact, now that I thought about it, I have not been very good at being a friend to any of them. Trowa, Wufei, and Duo used to invite me to lunch with them. After being turned down, sometimes brusquely, they stopped inviting me. I have not made any real effort to maintain my friendship with any of them.

In short, I needed to think about how to respond.

I spent an hour practicing Tai Chi, then another hour making delicate cranes out of some new paper that I had just gotten in the mail. Finally, I sat down at the computer to type my response. I briefly apologized for not being in touch more frequently, and then stated that I would be pleased to join them for dinner and whatever else they had in mind this Friday.

Within minutes, a response came from Duo, expressing enthusiasm. At least, I think "holy shit!!" is Duo's way of expressing enthusiasm. I hope so. He also offered to pick me up beforehand, an offer that I declined as politely as possible. This had the potential to be awkward enough without the added strain of a quiet car ride together.

* * *

Friday afternoon I sat down to make a crane for each of the other pilots. I had gone on the internet a week before and ordered special paper in anticipation of this project. Orange with a deep crimson foil for Trowa. Dark green with a hint of metallic silver for Wufei. Inky black with golden accents for Quatre. The same inky black, plus gray and just a touch of brilliant green foil for Duo. I had carefully chosen each piece of paper to match our respective gundams as closely as possible.

I know I started making the cranes around two o'clock. It should have taken me around an hour and a half to finish each piece.

I became aware, around five thirty, that my bladder needed to be emptied. When I looked down, the table in front of me was spilling over with paper cranes. My fingers were sore from carefully folding down the little sheets of paper. Instead of making one crane for each of the other pilots, I had made dozens. My hands shook as I gathered them up.

_I lost three hours of my life. Were it not for the cranes, I would not know what happened during those hours. _

I was terrified. What if this happened somewhere unsafe? What if I had hurt someone?

I have to find something else to occupy myself, and fast. Either that, or look for another job.

Still shaking faintly, I went to get ready for my night with the other pilots.

* * *

Duo, or perhaps Quatre, had chosen a new Indian restaurant, Sarovar, for dinner. The restaurant was in what appeared to be a small wooden house, painted sky blue and decorated with numerous strings of twinkling lights. A short set of wooden stairs led to the restaurant entrance, and as I walked up them, I could smell a faint hint of jasmine from the blossoms next to the door.

Once inside, I paused to look for the others. More of the tiny lights were strung inside against walls painted a shade that was not discernable in the dim lighting of the restaurant. As I looked around, the aromatic, curry-spiked air inside the restaurant washed over me.

For some reason, people always assume that I enjoy nothing besides bland food. This assumption is understandable, but incorrect. I enjoy spicy, tasteful food. I simply don't feel the need to consume it at every meal. Also, the few times I have attempted to cook spicy food on my own ended with disastrous results.

In the end, Duo found me before I found the others.

I had dressed carefully for tonight. A tailored pair of black slacks and a snug cobalt blue turtleneck that had been a gift from Relena. She has promised me that I look "devastating" in this outfit. I have trouble thinking of myself in those terms.

Duo had clearly also dressed carefully for tonight. He was wearing charcoal gray slacks and a fitted, sleeveless shirt that was a purple so deep it almost seemed black. It was a look that most men could have never pulled off. I think Relena would have called Duo "devastating" as well though.

I thought I detected a hint of trepidation or worry in Duo's eyes before he smiled broadly. "Heero! So glad you made it – just follow me to our table." Duo turned and led me through the restaurant to a table that seemed more secluded than many of the others. Apparently it helps to have Quatre Winner making your reservations.

The others were already waiting at the table. Quatre smiled at me as I sat down. Since I arrived last, I ended up sitting at the head of the table with Duo to my right and Quatre to my left. I carefully placed the box with the paper cranes directly under my chair as I sat down. "Heero, we're so glad you decided to come. We've already ordered some naan and samosas for an appetizer. I have it on good authority that korma is the specialty dish of the house. I was just telling Wufei about this merger that I've been working on. . . . " I sat back and listened to Quatre tell Wufei about the rather difficult merger that had just gone through for WEI. When the waiter came, I followed Quatre's subtle advice and ordered the vegetable korma.

We chatted about Quatre's work, and a little less about work with the Preventers. Appetizers came and empty plates were taken away, and eventually dinner came. The vegetable korma was close to perfect: creamy, a little sweet, and just spicy enough to create a pleasant burn on the tongue. I sighed a little in pleasure as I ate, and Duo smirked at me. "Good, Yuy?"

"Fantastic. Quatre, thank you for the advice." Quatre smiled demurely at me and nodded enthusiastically. Like me, he had chosen the vegetable korma, so I had no doubt he was pleased with his selection. I eyed Duo's plate with curiosity. "Duo, what is that?"

"Ginger chicken. It's really good." Duo grabbed a spoonful and held it out. "Want to try some?"

The look on his face told me that he thought I would not take him up on his offer. "Sure," I said, grabbing the spoon out of his hand. He gaped at me as I stuck his spoon in my mouth. "Mmm… you're right. It _is_ good." It was, too. Spicier than mine, and not nearly so sweet, but with a subtle current of ginger that was delicious. I grinned and handed Duo his spoon. His lips snapped closed as he took the spoon. Quatre and Trowa exchanged a look that I could not decipher as Duo closed his mouth.

I had just finished my korma when Wufei asked me, "So where have you been Heero? We've noticed that you haven't been at work as much for the last few weeks."

I grunted sourly. "Commander Une has decided that I need to limit the hours that I work and find my 'passion' outside of work. She claims that it will make me a better agent. So far I have not found anything else to be passionate about though."

"When you say 'limit', how many hours is she letting you work?"

"Forty-five each week. And any weight training or gun practice counts as time at work."

Quatre gave me a sympathetic look. "This must be really hard for you. Do you know how many hours you were working before?"

I shrugged. "According to Une, I was working an average of one hundred and seven hours per week." I could see Duo shaking his head as I continued. "Sometimes not working is not so bad. Other times I wonder if I will eventually have to find another job just to keep myself occupied."

Duo frowned thoughtfully. "I bet you've kept yourself occupied by any other person's standards. When you say you haven't managed to find anything else to be passionate about, what have you tried?"

"I've tried chess, go, origami, video games, bowling, meditation, photography, and Tai Chi. I like some of them. But I didn't find any of them overly engaging, and that seems to be what Une wants."

"I imagine that she wants you to find some_one_ more than some_thing_," Quatre mused thoughtfully.

I gaped at Quatre with shock and growing alarm. _Someone_? The thought had never occurred to me. I am not supposed to be close to someone else like that. It would be dangerous for them, and it would be dangerous for me. I am incapable of such a thing, I'm sure. If _that_ is what Une wants, I may as well start looking for a new job now. What am I going to do? How –

I was interrupted from my thoughts by Duo's hand gently squeezing my arm before letting go. "Hey, it's okay, Heero."

"But what if she wants me to find someone? I will not be able to do that."

"Why not?"

"I have never… thought of anyone that way. I do not think I would be good for someone else." _I'm a weapon. You cannot love a weapon._

Duo frowned at my answer. Quatre gave me a small apologetic smile. "I didn't mean to upset you Heero. I was just musing out loud as to what Une might be thinking."

I thought for a moment. "But Une doesn't have a problem with any of the rest of you. I am not the only one who is alone."

Quatre began coughing and shot a look at Trowa that I could not interpret. Trowa rolled his visible eye and then looked at me. "Heero, Quatre and I are together. We have been for a couple years now. We didn't want to tell you because we weren't sure how you would react." Quatre managed to take a long drink of water, stopped coughing, and then stared intently at his water glass.

"Your personal lives are not my business, but if you are happy together, then I am glad you found one another."

Quatre looked at me in surprise, eyes searching mine. Whatever he saw there made him smile at me. "Thank you, Heero. That means a lot to me."

Wufei spoke into the somewhat awkward silence that followed. "I've been dating Sally for a few months now."

"Ah." It made me sad to realize how little I had known about my friends. If Une hadn't forced me to take time off, I would still not know these things. It made me feel even guiltier about the lack of effort on my part to see them and be involved in their lives. I resolved to do better in the future.

Duo shot me a wide grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Maybe you should get a cat. Maybe that would be close enough to _someone_ for Commander Une."

I nodded and waited for conversation to resume around the table before excusing myself to go to the bathroom. Once there, I leaned my forehead against the cool glass of the mirror before rinsing my face. I needed a minute or two to myself to process. Like the rest of Sarovar, the bathroom was tastefully decorated, although a little more dimly lit than I generally preferred that sort of room.

I hadn't been there very long when Quatre came in. He watched me for a moment. "Are you okay? I'm still very sorry that we didn't tell you about us before. It just… never seemed like the right time."

I nodded and waved my hand. "It's fine. I understand. I know I have done little to stay in touch with everyone. I cannot expect to keep myself apart and yet know everything that's going on at the same time. Tonight has been enjoyable, though. I am going to do a better job of staying in touch in the future."

"I'm glad to hear it, Heero."

I hesitated before speaking again. "I know it's none of my business, but no one said anything about Duo… is he with someone too? Is there anything I should know about?"

Quatre studied my face for a moment before answering carefully, "Duo is not with anyone, but that is not to say that there is not someone that he feels strongly about. I won't say anymore than that. How much more he decides to tell you is between you and him."

I nodded. "But I still do not understand what is missing from me. Why does Une think I need something? Do you think I need something or someone?"

Quatre shrugged. "I think only you can really answer that question for yourself, Heero. But I have observed that you seem more focused on work than on your own happiness. If work truly made you happy, that would be okay. But sometimes it seems like work doesn't make you happy, so much as you think work should make you happy. Do you understand the difference?"

I nodded in response. "Thank you."

"Heero, you know you're always welcome to talk to me about anything. You don't have to try and handle everything by yourself." Quatre gestured to the door and smiled. "Why don't you head on back, and I'll spend a few minutes here and then rejoin all of you."

I paused with my hand on the door. "Thanks again, Quatre." I left the restroom feeling much better than I had when I entered it.

On the way to the table, I mused over what Quatre had asked me. Did I know the difference between work making me happy and wanting work to make me happy? I couldn't help but think: I understand the difference, but what if nothing can make me happy? Maybe weapons like me cannot be happy. And even if we can, maybe we shouldn't.

When I got back to the table, the plates and bowls from dinner had been cleared from the table. Wufei, Trowa, and Duo were engaged in a discussion about a promising new recruit and his scores on the Preventer entrance exams. I gathered that he had almost broken Duo's record for the sharpshooting field test – an impressive accomplishment if it was true. After a few more minutes, Quatre returned to the table. I used his return as an excuse to bring out my box and give everyone their origami.

I nervously cleared my throat before speaking. "So, I mentioned that I have been experimenting with origami. I… made something for each of you." I opened my box and carefully passed out the delicate creations.

"Heero, they're… beautiful," Quatre breathed. His eyes looked oddly damp.

"I'm glad you like it."

"Truly, Yuy, they are amazing. You honor us with these gifts." Wufei was cradling his crane in his hands as though it were made of glass.

Trowa looked me directly in the eyes with his one visible eye. "Thank you, Heero."

I looked at Duo, who was gently holding his Deathscythe-colored crane in one hand. He looked up to meet my gaze, and even I could see the emotion swirling in his eyes. "Thank you," he whispered. He ran one finger down the neck of his crane. A corresponding shiver ran down my spine, although I was unsure as to why.

"So," I cleared my throat. "Is there anything else planned for the evening?"

"Well," Quatre answered, "Duo's place is nearby… we were planning on going back there, maybe playing some cards or video games."

I nodded. This would give me the opportunity to experiment more with video games, which I had dismissed as not intellectually stimulating enough. Perhaps they were better when played with other people. "Sounds good."

* * *

The rest of the evening was spent playing a variety of video or card games at Duo's apartment. His two cats, Panel and Trigger, were, for lack of a better word, charming. He has apparently vowed to name all of his pets after Gundam parts. I suppose that they should be glad they came out with monikers no worse than Trigger and Panel. Maybe I should take Duo's suggestion about pets more seriously. The video games were more enjoyable playing with the other pilots. Duo in particular is very animated when he plays, jerking from side to side and squawking out insults left and right. As much fun as I had, I am certain that I would not find them intellectually stimulating enough to hold my attention for very long, at least without Duo.

At the end of the night, I went home happier and more content than I had been since that fateful day when Une called me into her office.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

It was three days later that I noticed the headline under my news and technology feeder. "Elite hacker issues challenge to anyone who will listen." Normally news of the best of whatever issuing a challenge would not interest me. But… I have always had a soft spot for hacking. I did a lot of it during the war, far more than I needed to do for missions, although I did a fair amount of mission-related hacking as well. Much of my non-mission related hacking was spent funneling funds from Oz to a variety of untraceable accounts. Although I have donated much of that money to support victims of the war, I still have a sizeable nest egg left over.

I clicked on the link and quickly read the article. Apparently a hacker calling himself "0010001100110001" issued a challenge yesterday for someone to hack their way through a program he designed. I chuckled at the name, although I was sure the humor was lost on most people. Apparently the hacker claimed that not even a Gundam pilot would be able to crack his program.

This wasn't such an unusual claim. Our identities as Gundam pilots were not well known. In the years since the war, Gundam pilots had come to be the boogeyman of the future. It was not unusual to hear someone exclaim, "Not even a Gundam pilot could do _that_!" It had been truly amusing a few of the times I heard someone say something to that effect. For example, I once overheard two people talking in line at the grocery store. "Man, did you hear about that eating contest?" "What eating contest?" "Some dude ate seven and a half pounds of funnel cake in ten minutes!" "Wow, not even a Gundam pilot is going to be able to beat that record!" I snickered silently to myself. Clearly, they did not know Duo's gustatory abilities, especially when it came to funnel cake.

During some of our rare downtime during the war, Quatre had convinced me and Duo to go to a local carnival. I was too busy being stern and imposing to have fun, but Duo was like a small child. He wanted to ride everything, play every game, and eat everything. He ate cotton candy, hot dogs, pizza, fried candy bars, and turkey legs. But his favorite food was something neither of us had ever seen before: funnel cake. I think he probably ate at least seven and a half pounds of funnel cake that today, or at least come close. I never understood how he was able to eat so much without getting sick. When I asked him, Duo told me it was one of the few silver linings to growing up hungry. As a child, his body had gotten used to being filled with as much food as he could find at any given time.

Returning my thoughts to the present, I left the article open and went to get ready for work.

* * *

For the first time that I could remember, I had trouble staying focused on work while at the office. My mind kept going back to the article that I had seen this morning. Something about it just got under my skin. Perhaps it bothered my ego. I know how good my hacking skills are, and it irked me that some upstart had challenged my ability to crack his program. Never mind that he had no idea who I was.

I will also admit that another part of me thrilled at the idea of hacking again. Out of all the things I had to do during the war, hacking was the one of the few things that I actually enjoyed. Unfortunately, my combat and infiltration skills are such that I have not been given the opportunity to do any real hacking while at the Preventers. It seems that there are a lot more able-bodied hackers than there are ex-terrorists with super-human abilities.

Around noon, Duo appeared in the doorway of my office. As usual, I failed to detect his arrival. One moment, no one was there, and then the next time I looked he was leaning against the doorjamb with his arms casually crossed in front of him. He was watching me work with a small smile on his face.

"Wow, Yuy," he gently teased me, "You're out of practice. I must have stood here for at least a minute before you noticed me."

I snorted and rolled my eyes at him. "There would have to have been something for me to notice. I don't suppose you could teach me how to move like that – without sound or obvious motion?" I raised an eyebrow at him.

Duo laughed. "Sorry, man, most of it's innate talent." His eyes flicked up and down my body and he frowned a little. "I could try and give you a few pointers, if you really want me to. But as I recall, you can move pretty stealthily yourself when you put your mind to it."

I shrugged. "Have I ever managed to surprise you?"

Duo chuckled. "Sorry, Yuy. No one surprises me. It's more of that innate talent. So, I know it's probably a lost cause, but do you want to go to lunch with me and Trowa?"

I started to say no, in accordance with my usual practice. But then I remembered the promise I had made to myself to spend more time working on my friendships with the other pilots. I nodded. "I'm glad you asked me despite believing it to be a lost cause. Are you two ready to leave right now?"

To Duo's credit, he only gaped at me for a few seconds before responding. "Probably in more like five to ten minutes. We were planning on going to Leo's, that sub place around the corner."

I nodded. I had seen the restaurant, although I had never eaten there. "Sounds good. Unless you object, I will shut this down and then go back with you to your office – I have never seen it before." I turned and began shutting my computer down.

When I stood to leave, Duo was still standing in the doorway, but he was watching me with a look on his face that I could not place. I stopped and frowned, trying to identify the expression. When Duo noticed that I had stopped, the expression was replaced with a grin before he stepped into the hallway. "Come on. I'll lead you to my glorious office."

Out in the hall, we fell into step beside each other. "So what made you decide to get two cats?"

"Well, Panel wandered around the apartment complex for a while. They were going to call animal control to take him away, but I offered to adopt him instead. He seemed really sweet, even malnourished and half-wild. I got Trigger about a month later when the neighbors across the hall from me had an unexpected feline pregnancy. You should have seen her. She was so amazingly tiny. Now she rules the apartment with an iron paw."

"How long have you had them?" We got on the elevator and Duo pressed the button for the twenty-third floor. I felt disappointed with myself when I realized that I had not even known that we worked on separate floors.

"Let's see… I've had Panel for about nine months, and Trigger for about eight months." Duo gave me a knowing glance. "I hope the little furballs didn't grow on you. Are you thinking of getting one?"

I stepped off the elevator with Duo and hummed noncommittally. "They are very charming. But I know nothing about how to care for such an animal. I would be worried about hurting it or unintentionally neglecting it."

Duo shrugged. "Depending on the cat, it might not be an issue. You'd find it difficult to neglect Trigger. She lets me know when she wants something, and generally does it quite forcefully. You could always come over and spend time with them, if you wanted."

I glanced at him and opened my mouth to respond, but Duo suddenly stopped and waved a hand at a door. "Here we are. Office, sweet office!"

Duo's office was… not at all what I expected. It was the same size and shape as mine, had the same bland Preventers furniture. Somehow, it being Duo's, I had expected it to be strewn with papers and decorated with personal touches. It was not. It was, in fact, nearly hardly more personalized than my own office.

On the wall there was a framed picture of the five of us, taken sometime after the war but before the Mariemaia incident. We appeared to be at a park. On one end, Trowa stood behind Quatre with his arms crossed around Quatre's shoulders. They were both smiling. I wondered if they had been together when this picture was taken. Wufei was in the middle of us, looking distinctly uncomfortable at posing for the camera. On the other side of Wufei were Duo and me. Duo had his arm thrown around my shoulders, and he was smiling broadly at the camera while holding his fingers up in a victory sign. I was scowling and looked ready to attack whoever was taking the picture.

Duo let me study the picture for a few moments before speaking. "We were really young, weren't we?"

"Hn. Who took this picture? I don't remember it at all."

"I think Sally did. I don't remember why we had all gone out together."

I could not articulate why, but the picture made me sad. I was not at all disappointed when Trowa appeared in the doorway to join us for lunch.

At lunch, I learned three things. One, Trowa was leaving the next day for a lengthy undercover field assignment. Two, the subs at Leo's were actually really good – or at least my "garden delight" sub was. And three, it was apparent from the way they spoke with each other that Duo and Trowa were really good friends. I talked very little, and mostly listened to them banter back and forth. I had assumed that Duo and Quatre were close, and that Duo and Trowa were just passing acquaintances. Clearly that assumption was wrong. I envied their closeness, even though I knew I had no one to blame but myself for being left out.

As we walked back, Duo nudged Trowa. "The furballs that run my life wore off on Heero. He thinks they're 'charming.'"

Trowa let out a rich peal of laughter at this revelation. "Heero, you should spend more time with his cats before you decide that they're charming. Trigger can be a real monster when she wants to be." As we waited to get on the elevator, Trowa showed me a number of fine silvery scars on his hands. They looked almost like spider webs, they were so thin. "See these?" I nodded. "Trigger gave me this the first time Duo was out on a field assignment. She rubbed against my leg like she wanted attention, and then savaged me when I went to pick her up."

I raised an eyebrow at Duo as we got on the elevator. He shrugged. "I think she was nervous because I was gone. She'd known me her whole life at that point."

Trowa nodded in agreement. "She's never attacked me since. But every time Duo's away, they find something of his to destroy. Last time it was a pair of boxers. They shredded it and then left it by the door as a warning. Trust me when I say that they can be real monsters when they put their minds to it."

Shortly after that warning, we arrived at the seventeenth floor, where my office is located. I nodded to both of them. "Thank you for the lunch invitation. Good luck on your assignment Trowa. I will see both of you later."

Trowa nodded in response, and Duo called out, "'Bye Heero!" as the elevator doors closed.

It seemed that the more time I spent with my friends, the more I realized how little I knew about them. I turned my mind to work as I walked back to my office alone.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

When I returned home that night, I immediately went to my computer and opened the news article about the hacker's challenge. I sat back and contemplated it for a few minutes. Finally, I decided that I had nothing to lose by participating in the challenge, and I was certain that my computer skills were such that I could do so with complete anonymity.

Thus decided, I ran some special anti-detection software that I had designed before going to the hacker's site.

The site was minimal, designed with clean elegant lines and a dark color palette that included blacks, grays, and dark blues. There did not appear to be much content; the only pages listed were "about me," "challenge," "about computers, "and "recommended listening."

I first went to the page titled "about me," and was unsurprised to find nothing but a string of ones and zeros, "0110000101110011001000000110100101100110," which translated simply to "as if." Apparently the mystery hacker was not interested in divulging anything personal about himself. It occurred to me that the hacker might be female, but I decided to think of him as male due to the statistical likelihood of his being so. Approximately seventy-two percent of hackers are male.

I next went to the section of the site called "about computers." The page contained fairly generic information about the history of computing, starting with the rather primitive creations in the pre-colony years. The author gave a very basic explanation regarding computer programming, and then listed and briefly described some of the more commonly-used computer languages. Although none of the information was particularly in-depth, the clear and concise explanations only strengthened my suspicion that someone with actual skill and intelligence was behind the site.

Before going to look at the challenge, I went to the page that claimed to give recommended listening. The list of music there was eclectic; some of it I was familiar with, but much of it I had never heard of before. Only ten songs were listed, with multi-links to the artist's homepage (if they had one and were not already long dead), a place to buy the music, a place to listen to the music, and articles or 'pedia entries about the music.

Some people think that hacking and cracking is just about programming prowess and knowledge. Not true. While all good hackers possess programming skills, it is my belief that great hackers possess another almost indefinable quality, something I think of as electronic intuition. When I hacked during the war, my hacking was made easier by the fact that I understood Oz. As much as I hated the organization and the people that comprised it, I still understood its goals, motivations, and style. It gave me a distinct edge when robbing Oz blind with my laptop.

So I made myself examine each song carefully. The hacker had chosen not to reveal much about himself on any other part of the site. "As if" might indicate an attitude… or it might just mean that the hacker had a soft spot for pre-colony pop culture. In the end, it revealed little. The song list, however, had the potential to reveal much more, especially when combined with the chosen links. Why had those links been chosen and not others?

The first song on the list was written in AC 136, "The Spaces Between." It was one of the oddest things I had ever heard. It sounded like hissing at first, then strange sounds came through my speakers that bore little resemblance to any music that I had ever heard before. And yet, the longer I listened, the more soothing and meditative I found the strange noises. I also began to discern patterns in the chaos of sounds. How… odd. I went to the 'pedia entry and discovered that it was by an L1 composer who had recorded the sounds of Venus's atmosphere and then reworked them into "The Spaces Between."

Bemused, I moved on to the next song on the list, "On Any Colony," a space pop song that was wildly popular a few years ago. Although not my favorite style of music, it brought a small smile to my face. I could remember Duo and Quatre loudly singing along to the song once while we drove to a safehouse. Of course, I had not found it very amusing at the time…. There was a lot that I had not found very amusing at the time.

The third song had me pulling out my gun. It started with a bloodcurdling scream, then launched into a macabre – and _loud_ – caricature of circus music. After that was more screaming that I realized was intended to be singing. I hastily closed the music file and went to look up information on the song. Apparently it was by "Big Kill Top," an L2 band that specializes in something called "circus-death-metal." A glance through the band's lyrics revealed dark, angry themes. Their latest album had several songs that appeared to be about the killing and destruction that had gone on during the last war. Although I have never thought of Trowa as an angry person, I could not help but think of him as I read about the band's music. With his involvement with the circus and the war, I wondered what he would make of the song.

The next song was a soft lullaby, played on something that sounded like a cross between a Japanese koto and an electronic harp. I snorted and shook my head. I added "mercurial" to the short list of personality traits that I had determined about the mystery hacker. After clicking on the 'pedia article, I learned that my guess as to instrumentation was apparently entirely correct. The composer, Emiko Seikko, lives on L-4 and specializes in mixing electronic instruments with the koto. I made a mental note to look for more music by Seikko. I have no idea who my parents are, or where I even came from. I am certain from my blue eyes that I am not one hundred percent Japanese, and yet the cast of my features strongly indicates a Japanese inheritance. It has occurred to me that I might find it fulfilling to explore my obvious cultural heritage.

The fifth song even I could recognize as terribly sad, a song about loving someone more than they were capable of returning. The lead singer's voice was beautiful and velvety as she sang, "_It doesn't matter what I do… I know I'll never really get inside of you, to make your eyes catch fire the way they should. The way the blue could pull me in, if they only would, if they only would…_." The file said it was "A Letter to Elise" by Spacer's Lament, an after-colony band that was still around. Further information about the song revealed that although the version was new, the actual song was written and first performed by a pre-colony band named the Cure. I made a mental note to look up more music by both Spacer's Lament and the Cure.

In yet another mercurial change, the next song, "Get on the Platform," was a sugary-sweet pop number that sounded like so many others that were popular today. I had never been to a dance club, but I imagined that this was the sort of music that was played in one. I skimmed over the musician's information, but there was nothing obviously extraordinary about "DJ Dream," the L-4 artist who had recorded the song.

I could see why my opponent had chosen song number seven, as it was essentially a song about hacking. It had never occurred to me that people made music about hacking, but I supposed that it made sense in a way. The voice that sang was clearly female, but had a very assertive quality to it. "…_Hello? Tap in the code, I'll reach you below. No one should brave the underworld alone. . . . Word has it on the wire that you don't know who you are. Well if you could jack into my brain you'd know exactly what you mean here. Mothers are trails on stars in the night. Fathers are black holes that suck up the light…_" A small shiver ran down my spine. The words spoke to a loneliness and uncertainty that I felt. The multi-links provided that the singer was a pre-colony singer named "Poe." As was not unusual after so long, there was little other information to be garnered. Like most people today, I think of pre-colony computer technology as limited and archaic. It was eye-opening to hear such an old song about hacking, a song that made sense and still had relevancy for me.

Like most people, I was familiar with the next work on the list, Xamblini's _Symphony for the Stars_. It is a stirring piece that has been very popular for the last two hundred or so years. It is rumored that the symphony inspired the pioneers and scientists who made the first colonies. It is difficult to not be affected by the chorus in the symphony's final movement: "_From dust and stars we all were made, to dust and stars we'll all return, and when we have returned, all men shall know freedom_. _No king or country has the right to keep us from our birthright! Man is born on ground but still his soul belongs to Heaven_." Listening to the symphony again was a poignant reminder of all that I had spent my life fighting for – for the freedom and peace of others.

When I began listening to the last song, another shiver went down my spine. I had heard this song before, but for the life of me, I could not remember where or when. I was just certain that I had heard it before. Like "A Letter to Elise," the song seemed to be about being in love with someone who either did not or could not feel the same way as the singer. "_Baker, baker… can you explain? If truly his heart was made of icing… and I wonder how mine could taste? Maybe we could change his mind. I know you're late for your next parade. You came to make sure that I'm not running. Well, I ran from him in all kinds of ways. Guess it was his turn this time…_" The song was called "Baker Baker" and was by a pre-colony singer named Tori Amos. I listened to the song three more times, but I never managed to place where I had heard it before, nor did the 'pedia entry jog my memory.

As I expected, my careful perusal of the recommended listening gave me several insights into my opponent. First, he was well-versed enough in pre-colony music to have chosen several songs that predated man's settlement of space. Second, he had chosen several sad songs – possibly for no reason at all, but more likely because the music spoke to some hurt within him. This offered a possible weakness. Third, the hacker was likely someone who could go from happy to sad to angry to happy again in the blink of an eye. There was no arrangement to the list of the songs that I could discern. Happy, mindless pop music preceded and followed dark depressing music. I believed that most people would have attempted to choose an order to the songs that flowed better with the songs' moods. Fourth, the hacker was not just someone who had figured out how to reroute modems and interfere with systems. He was clearly someone who was knowledgeable about computers, including their languages and their history. Finally, my opponent likely had an interest in space or the colonies. Not only had Xamblini's symphony made the recommended list, but so had "The Spaces Between," that odd first piece that was taken from recordings of Venus's atmosphere.

I narrowed my eyes and considered the possibility that there was some hidden answer hiding among the chosen songs. Perhaps if I used a key to assign numerical values to each letter and then added up the values of the songs' titles, I might find something…. I shook my head and made an effort to remember that I had not yet even seen the challenge issued by the hacker. I was getting ahead of myself.

I left the music page open while I opened the challenge page to see what I was up against. I was not surprised to see that it was concise and to the point, like everything else I had seen so far.

**Welcome to my domain. I assume you are here because you have heard about my challenge. **

**So what is my challenge?**

**Here is the only easy answer that I'll give you: the below file is my challenge. Of course, getting the file is the first mini-boss that you must defeat in order to continue. Most of you won't get that far. Any script-kiddies out there can just turn right around and go play with the other skiddiots. **

**I assure you, not even one of the glorified Gundam pilots can break my baby.**

**And of course, if you're good enough to compete, you don't need any more explanation from me. I do, however, have one rule that you must follow: you must stay strictly white hat. Nothing illegal will fly, and I promise you, I can fry your 'ware no matter where or who you are. Don't try shit with me. I will know it, and then you will be seriously punished. **

**I don't anticipate having to give away a prize, as I don't think anyone out there can crack my program. But, if you somehow find your way through, you will get two prizes. First, you will get the warm fluffy feeling of accomplishment. I'm sure the newspapers and vid programs will interview you and shit, if that's your kink. Second, you will get me. I will answer your questions, I will be your friend. I will explain everything you wanted to ask while working on my masterpiece. It may not seem like a lot now, but once you've tried to break my lovely and once you learn who I am, you'll realize that knowing me is worth more than anything else I could give you.**

**Good luck.**

I added egotistical to the list of character traits that I had discerned about the hacker.

I sat back and took a moment to examine my thoughts and feelings about the challenge. I was pleased that it looked difficult. And more than that, I was… excited to start. It pulled to me in a way that nothing else had so far. However, it was already late, and I wanted to go in to work early the next morning so that I could start on the challenge as soon as I got home. I set a bevy of programs to run before I went to bed – programs to determine the hacker's IP address, others to rip apart the code holding the site together and spit it back out to me.

As I was laying in bed waiting for sleep to take me, it occurred to me that hacking was almost certainly not what Une had in mind when she ordered me to find a passion outside of work.

[A/N: Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to review my fic! Also thank you to those of you who have added this fic to your alerts or favorites. I hope everyone is enjoying it so far. Sorry this chapter took so long to get out; I'm finding that I need to do a bit of research for this chapter and the next chapter or two, so they may take a few days each. But I will be back up to speed soon! Also, please note. I do not own Gundam Wing or the characters contained therein. Nor do I own the Cure's "Letter to Elise," Poe's "Hello," or Tori Amos's "Baker Baker." All lyrics quoted in this chapter belong to one of those three artists, except for the excerpt from the Symphony of the Stars, which I wrote on my own. I heavily edited the lyrics, but promise you that all of the songs are worth your attention. This was a hard chapter to write, and I hope it's not totally awful..]


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Special thank yous to everyone who has reviewed (sorry that I have been lax about responding this week!), and a very special thank you to Solaris, who has graciously volunteered to beta this fic for me!

CHAPTER SEVEN

The next day, I got up early and went to the office. I worked determinedly through the inbox on my desk. At three o'clock, having finished all of my paperwork, I went to the Preventers' gym to lift weights.

I have never understood why some agents pay for private gym memberships rather than use the provided facilities. Located in the basement of the Preventers' building, the gym has everything an exercise enthusiast needs, at least in my opinion. There are free weights (including barbells, dumbbells, and kettlebells), resistance machines, treadmills, multiple types of exercise bikes, two rowing machines, two racquetball court, two squash courts, an Olympic-sized swimming pool, and a sparring ring. What more could a private facility offer?

When I arrived in the basement, I was surprised to find Duo standing in the middle of the weight room, hands on his hips and looking around with a displeased expression. I stopped when I saw him, and he smiled and waved at me.

"Hey, Heero. Getting your workout?"

I blinked at him and could not help but wonder what else I might do in the gym. "Yes. You look… displeased with the equipment. Has it done something to you? Is there a particular machine I should avoid?"

Duo chuckled. "I can't believe I heard you make a joke. Really two jokes in a row. It's just… Trowa and I usually spar everyday before I use the machines. I'm trying to decide what to do instead."

"Ah." I hesitated briefly. "I would be happy to spar with you in Trowa's place, if you would like?"

Duo eyed me speculatively. Expressions that I could not interpret rapidly crossed his face before settling into a small smile. "Sure. Thanks, Heero."

I nodded. "No problem. It will be good practice for me. Would you like to warm up with me first?"

Oddly enough, hints of color rose in Duo's cheeks when I asked this, but he was quick to reply. "Sure. That would be nice."

We walked around the sparring mat a few times to warm up before stepping onto the mat. We took up positions opposite one another.

"Do you have any rules that you and Trowa usually abide by?"

"Uh… Don't break my bones?"

I glared at Duo, although part of me was hurt that this was even a concern to him. "I may not be an expert at human interactions, but I am not stupid. I will not break your bones or cause any other permanent damage to you. Are you ready to proceed?"

Duo had the grace to look chagrined before nodding. He then surprised me by giving me a deep bow. I returned the bow and then we began our dance across the mat.

It was wonderful. I had not sparred with anyone since the war, when Chang would occasionally honor me with a match. I fight with the martial arts training that Doctor J prescribed for me. It is what he considered to be the most valuable aspects and moves of many different schools. Karate, judo, taekwondo, jujutsu, aikido, sambo, hapkido… I have had training in all of them.

Duo was the complete opposite. He was all wild grace and innate skill, trained by the hard lessons of growing up on the streets. I was pleased to find that we were evenly matched despite our different styles. Every time I managed to pin him to the floor, he found a way to squirm from under me. He moved like, like… an _eel_ or something similar. He dodged or blocked my kicks and punches, and I dodged or blocked his in return. We moved across the mat so in sync that it almost seemed choreographed.

Time and place fell away. There was nothing but me, Duo, and our bodies meeting one another in friendly combat. Eventually, though, one of us made a mistake. I feinted to the left and Duo corrected a split-second too late. That split-second was all I needed to take us both down to the mat. Once there, I placed my arm across his shoulders and pinned his body with mine.

We were both sweating like mad and gasping for breath. Duo tried feebly to twist from under me as he had before. "Yield," I hissed. Duo gasped for air and nodded.

"I yield," he managed to wheeze out.

At his submission, it was as though a switch had been flipped. I suddenly returned to reality. I could feel the heat from Duo's skin against mine, and my eyes noticed the wildly beating pulse fluttering in his neck. A strange feeling grew in my stomach, and I felt my skin flush, although I did not understand why. Uncomfortable, I managed the energy to flip over and lay on my back next to him, panting. When I did so, the uncomfortable feeling eased. I lay wheezing and staring at the ceiling while Duo did the same next to me.

"Shit, Yuy," he managed. "That," he gasped out, "was incredible."

I am not sure where I got the energy from, but I managed a chuckle. "I take it… I was… an acceptable substitution… for Barton?"

Somehow, Duo also managed a chuckle. "More . . . than . . . acceptable."

"Good. I am… glad." I felt a faint twinge of hurt again. "I trust that… I did not cause… you any permanent… injury?"

"Not… unless I cough… up a lung." Duo turned his head to look at me. "Heero, I'm sorry… I asked. It… was stupid. I know you… wouldn't hurt me."

I turned to look at him and our eyes met. He smiled at me and squeezed my hand with his, and I wanted to do _something_, but I did not know what. Instead, I spent a few minutes recovering before I stood and held out a hand to him. He grinned at me and grabbed my hand, then used it to help pull himself up. I noted that although we were both still panting, our exertion level seemed to be much more manageable. A glance at the clock on the wall surprised me, though. Apparently we had sparred for almost an hour. I went and grabbed a towel to dry myself off with while Duo did the same.

"Still feel like weight training?"

Duo snorted. "Sure. Do you?"

"Yes." We both headed to the machines. Silence descended as we lifted weights together.

I had just finished with the leg press machine when Duo came to stand near me. "Spot me and then I'll spot you?"

"Sure."

Duo laid with his back on the bench press as I added weights to the bar. I stopped at three hundred pounds and raised a questioning eyebrow at him. He rolled his eyes at me. "Add another hundred, Yuy. I'm not that much of a wimp."

After I added the required weights, he proceeded to slowly press the bar up and down. I said nothing, but I was impressed nonetheless. Duo's muscles are more developed than I had realized. When he was done, I took the bar from him and gently sat it on the stand. Duo hopped up, and I took his place.

"Alright, Yuy. Make me feel like a wimp. How much am I adding?"

Rather than answer immediately, I frowned at Duo. "Four hundred pounds more, please. And you are not a wimp. Four hundred pounds is quite impressive. Doctor J did… things… to make me as strong as I am. It certainly does not make me superior."

A sad expression flitted across Duo's face. "I know, Heero. That shit that Doctor J did to you was just… wrong. I'm sorry that happened to you." In a quick mood change, he winked at me and grinned. "Still, it's hard not to feel like a wimp when you take my four hundred pounds and double it."

I grunted in understanding. "After we're done with the weights, you can show me how to wiggle out of every pin I have you in. That should make you feel better."

Duo laughed and his face lit up. "You're right. That _would_ make me feel better!"

Still smiling brightly, Duo went about doubling the weights. I picked up the bar and began to pump it up and down slowly. The truth was that he could have added six hundred pounds and I would have had no problem. But eight hundred pounds would give me an adequate workout, and there was no need to make him feel any worse about pressing only four hundred.

When I finished, Duo helped me guide the bar back to its resting place. I stood and helped him put the weights back on their racks.

When we were done cleaning up the bench press, we headed back to the sparring mat and Duo tried to show me how he was able to continually escape my pins. It involved him making himself smaller somehow, and then fluidly twisting at the right moment. We reversed our positions and I tried to emulate what he had done. I understood the twisting, although I was not nearly so fluid when I tried to do it. It was the making myself smaller that I simply could not master.

After about ten minutes of trying, I grunted and said, "Enough." Duo helped me to my feet with a smirk.

"Sorry, Yuy, guess it's just one of those other innate talents."

"You seem to have a lot of those."

"I do, don't I?"

Duo sauntered off to the locker room while I spent a few minutes stretching my muscles. By the time I entered the locker room, Duo had apparently already chosen one of the tiny stalls, as steam and baritone humming emitted from it. I chose a stall of my own, and then showered and dressed again. When I exited the locker room, I was surprised to find Duo standing against the wall waiting for me.

He smiled and then fell into step beside me. "I really enjoyed this Heero. Would you mind making it a regular thing? Like maybe once or twice a week?"

I stopped in surprise, then forced myself to continue walking toward the parking garage. "I would be happy to…. But you said that you normally spar with Trowa. Won't he mind me taking his place?"

Duo frowned thoughtfully. "I don't think so. I think he mostly does it to humor me, but I'll check with him." Duo looked at me and grinned. "Maybe we can share you. It wouldn't hurt Trowa to get some experience with a different style of opponent."

I nodded. "Let me know what you decide. Since Une reduced my hours, I have only been working three days a week, so give me some advance warning so that I can adjust my schedule."

"Sure thing." We walked in companionable silence for several minutes. When we were only a hundred feet or so from the door to the parking garage, Duo spoke again. "Mentioning schedules, what are you doing tomorrow?"

"I meet with Une at ten in the morning. After that, I have nothing planned." Which technically was untrue. I planned to go home and work on my hacking project. I just was not ready to discuss it with anyone, including Duo.

"Do you want to come over in the evening, visit with the furballs, eat dinner, and maybe play some games?"

I frowned in confusion. "Are we having another pilot get-together so soon?"

Duo ducked his head and I could see a blush fighting its way up his skin. "No, they're not. But I could invite them if you wanted to get together with everyone."

I immediately felt bad. I stopped a few feet before the door and tentatively put a hand on Duo's arm. "I would be happy to spend time just with you. No one has ever asked me to do something like that before, and I am sorry that I came to an incorrect conclusion regarding your invitation." As I spoke, part of my brain noted that Duo's skin was warm and soft underneath my hand. I felt a surge of that same uncomfortable feeling again. As I removed my hand, he turned and looked into my eyes.

As Duo spoke, he smiled reassuringly. "It's okay, Heero. It's just…" His eyes slid away from mine and the smile disappeared altogether. "I know you're upset with Une for making you cut back on your hours. But…." His eyes returned to mine and his expression was very serious. "I've missed you. I thought we were friends, you know, during the war. And now, we have peace, but it's like you're gone. Heero, do you know the last time I saw you before Une cut back on your hours?"

I shook my head numbly.

"Eight months ago at the Preventers holiday party. And I think that was only because Une ordered you to go."

I had not realized that it had been that long, but I had no reason to doubt what Duo said. And he was right that I had only attended because Une had ordered me to go. "I am sorry. I did not realize that it had been that long. I ... know that I have not been a very good friend to you or anyone else. It is going to be different from now on, regardless of my hours at work."

Duo stepped forward and put his arms around me. He was warm and smelled nice, like cinnamon and oranges or some other fruit. He stepped back before I had a chance to bring my arms up in return. "I'm glad to hear it. I'm going to hold you to that, Heero." His expression brightened. "So tomorrow night works for you? Say around six?"

I smiled at him. "Sure, I'll be there. Should I bring anything?"

He waved a hand at me. "Nah, I'll take care of everything. You just show up."

* * *

I was eager to get home and check on my computer programs, but I stopped at a pet store on my way. After all, Duo had said that I did not need to bring anything, but his cats might feel differently. Once I reached the aisle that held cat treats and toys, I froze. Who knew so many different things could be made just for them to eat and bat around?

I ended up selecting a package of unnaturally colored "mice" stuffed with catnip, as well as a bag of tuna-flavored treats. I hoped that Duo's cats were normal enough to like fish and catnip.

Once home, I set the treats aside and went straight to my computer. I was not surprised to learn that my tracing programs had failed utterly. The IP address was mirrored and bounced in so many different directions that there was nothing to find. I had better luck with the program that was set to rip apart the code holding the site together.

It had done what it was supposed to, inasmuch as it had managed to take the code from the site and store it in a file on my computer. But when I opened it, I was dismayed to find that it was more than it had appeared to be on the surface. Quite simply, someone had filled in the site's code with line after line of possibly useless information. Or possibly useful. It was impossible to tell without further examination.

I sat back and contemplated my options. I could try just skimming through the code myself and see if anything odd jumped out at me. But given its length, that would take a long time – too much time. I ultimately decided to write a small program that would carefully parse through the code looking for anything that might be (or be hiding) an executable file or some other program. From what the hacker had said, I was probably looking for an executable.

Within thirty minutes, I had written a program that I believed would do the job. I set it to work on the code while I went to get my origami paper and the presents for Duo's cats.

An hour and a half later, two things had been accomplished. First, I had managed to create an origami mouse out of silver and gray paper that was large enough to hold the catnip mice and the bag of treats. It would do as packaging. Second, my computer had finished running… and had found three thousand different objects that had the potential to be executable files. _Three thousand_? It was better than trying to look through all the code, but still. On a hunch I searched the narrowed code for the word "below." The hacker had claimed that the program could be found below.

Nothing was found matching the word "below."

I stood up and paced while I thought. I thought back to what I knew about the hacker. He had an interest in pre-colony things, including obsolete computer languages. I had my program look for "below" in binary, but nothing was found that way either.

Then something niggled at the back of my mind, a voice singing the word "below." "_Tap in the code, I'll reach you below – No one should brave the underworld alone_." It had been from that pre-colong hacking song, "Hello."

I first tried running my program with the word "hello," but nothing came back. "Underworld," "code," and "brave" were similarly fruitless. Then something occurred to me, something that was undeniably a long shot. The line "tap in the code" made me think of typing on a keyboard, but there was another meaning to the words.

Before everyone was typing away on electronic keyboards, one popular method of communication was something called a telegraph – and the language used for the telegraph was Morse _code_, which was _tapped_ out by the person sending the message.

Excitedly, I searched for "telegraph." I swore when my computer returned with zero results about thirty seconds later. Then I tried "Morse."

Thirty seconds later, my computer returned one positive hit – a file named "." I stared at it for a while, contemplating how to proceed. My logical leap that had led to the file was a long shot, at best. If I ran this file, it might be the correct file - or it might overwrite my hard drive. In fact, I was willing to bet that running any file other than the correct one would have disastrous results.

I ran the file through every program I had that might detect malicious code. I was unsurprised when the programs found nothing malicious in the program.

Deciding that I had only my hard drive to lose, I ran the file.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Thank you again for all the reviews! And a special thanks to Solaris, my beta reader. This is a brief chapter (sorry). Text in [brackets] is typed.

CHAPTER EIGHT

The file installed and executed itself very quickly, and then two things happened. First, an icon appeared on my desktop called "Challenge." Second, a window appeared that looked like a chat program – only I had no such program installed.

A message appeared almost immediately from "0010001100110001."

[How are you today, Agent Yuy?]

I glared at the message even as my estimation of the hacker's skills increased. Not only had he managed to open a chat window with me, but he apparently knew who I was.

[I am fine. And you?]

[Wonderful, thank you for asking! I hope you don't mind that I worked out who you are. After all, you'll learn who I am eventually. It seems only fair that I should know who you are.]

[Eventually? You seem to be assuming that I will complete your challenge.]

[Well, for the moment, you don't have any competition. No one else has even found the correct file. The speed with which you did it lends credence to my theory that you will ultimately win.]

[I see.]

As I waited for his response, I set a number of tracer programs to work.

[We could play a game while you attempt to find me?]

I gritted my teeth.

[What makes you think I am trying to find you?]

[Because that is what I would be doing if I were you.]

It made sense, in a way. I decided that I had nothing to lose by humoring my opponent while my programs ran.

[Fine. What sort of game?]

[How about a get-to-know-you game? We take turns naming a place in our home. Say, for instance, the freezer. Then I list something in my freezer that I think won't be in your freezer. We go back and forth until one of us names an item that both of us have. We'll each name three places. Whoever manages to name the fewest common items wins. Acceptable?]

[Yes. Although you have a distinct advantage, since you at least know who I am.]

[True. Of course, you are getting potentially valuable knowledge to help defeat my challenge just by participating. So, I consider that fair. I will start. I choose the freezer. In my freezer is peanut butter and chocolate ice cream.]

I made a face that the hacker could not see. Yuck. I did not like ice cream in general; the only flavor that I have decided is tolerable is green tea. And even that I did not keep in my apartment.

[In my freezer is nattou.]

[Disgusting. In my freezer is a bottle of Stolichnaya vodka.]

[Clarification: what if I had a bottle of vodka, but not Stolichnaya. Would that be a common item?]

[Yes. Do you have some vodka in your freezer? I'm going to revise my opinion of you if you say yes.]

[No, I do not. I was merely curious. In my freezer is edamame.]

[Point for me, agent. I've got a bag of edamame as well. Your turn to pick a location.]

I frowned thoughtfully.

[What if one of us runs out of items?]

[Then point for the other. Whatever the location is will still hold air, and that's a common item.]

[Okay. On my bookshelf I have a copy of the Preventer's Personnel Manual.]

[Bookshelf, eh? On my bookshelf, I have an AC 150 Edition of the Kinsey Institute's Report on Sex.]

[On my bookshelf I have a piece of the Berlin Wall, from Earth.]

[No shit? Why? It must've cost a fortune.]

I glared at the screen. It felt as though the hacker was criticizing my choice.

[It reminds me of what mankind is possible of, of what is worth fighting for.]

[Oo-kay. On my bookshelf, I have a copy of Wychlanowski's _How to Hack the Death Star_.]

I had been wanting to read _How to Hack the Death Star_ for over a year now. I doubted that it would have anything useful to me in it, but it was supposed to be quite an entertaining read. I debated for a moment whether to ask the hacker about the book. Why not? If anything, it might give me more information about him.

[Is it worth reading?]

[Sure. Won't teach you any new tricks, but it's a lot of fun. You don't even need to see the movie that it's referencing to get most of the humor. If you crack my program, I'll let you borrow it. It's still your turn to name an item.]

[On my bookshelf is …]

I looked at my bookshelf, trying to decide what might be unique.

[… a collection of paper cranes.]

[Cool. On my bookshelf is a bottle of sunblock.]

[On your bookshelf? Is it decorative?]

[Ha ha. We can't all be neat freaks.]

[True. On my bookshelf is a copy of Sun Tzu's _Art of War_.]

[Another point for me then. You should stop underestimating me, Agent Yuy.]

[Apparently.]

[All right. In my pantry is a three pound bag of M and M's.]

I rolled my eyes. Yuck again. [In my pantry is homemade trail mix with eighty-eight percent cacao dark chocolate pieces.]

[Yech. That must be really bitter. In my pantry is a can of cream of mushroom soup.]

I smirked.

[Point for me. I use it for cooking.]

[Damn. Your turn to pick a location again.]

I looked around my apartment thoughtfully. What location to pick next? Somewhere where I had a lot of unique items, but where my opponent might not…. Clearly our tastes in food were very different. Since we had already done the freezer and pantry, I would go with what was left.

[In my refrigerator is a jar of salted octopus.]

[O_o. Really?]

I chuckled.

[Really.]

[Wow. Uh, in my refrigerator is a jar of hot fudge. It tastes way better than octopus.]

I rolled my eyes.

[To each his own. In my refrigerator is a package of fish cake sausage.]

[Remind me never to eat over at your place. In my refrigerator is a can of whipped cream.]

[In my refrigerator is a jar of pickled quail eggs.]

[Okay, I've had those before. They're actually okay. In my refrigerator is a twelve-pack of Mountain Dew.]

[Point for me, based on your vodka example. I have a twelve-pack of Ramune soda in my refrigerator. Now we are even, and it is your turn to pick.]

[Fine. I'm guessing you don't have a lot of variety in your medicine cabinet, Agent Yuy. In my medicine cabinet is a bottle of Astroglide.]

I fought the beginnings of a blush and realized that I was most likely going to lose this round. In fact, I was having a hard time thinking of anything that even had the potential to be unique.

[In my medicine cabinet is….]

Shaving cream? Razors? Aftershave? Tylenol? Then, I remembered something that I had bought as part of my meditation experiment.

[… Japanese incense.]

[Incense? In your medicine cabinet?]

[Yes.]

[Huh. In my medicine cabinet is a box of condoms.]

This time I could not prevent the flush that spread up my neck. I wondered briefly if the hacker actually had condoms or if he was just trying to provoke a reaction from me.

[In my medicine cabinet is a box of Q-tips.]

[Ha. Point for me. I knew you would have trouble with the medicine cabinet. Your turn to pick a location – last one.]

I had come up with my final location while pondering what was in my medicine cabinet.

[In my cd case is a recording of Beethoven's _Missa Solemnis_.]

I was hoping that our musical tastes were different enough that I might win this one.

[In my cd case is SugarSpace's newest album, _L-3 Boy_.]

[In my cd case is the soundtrack to _Chikyuu Shoujo Arjuna_.]

[In my cd case is Nine Inch Nails' _The Downward Spiral_.]

I allowed a small smirk in triumph.

[Then we will have to agree to tie. I also have that cd.]

[I'm surprised, Agent Yuy. I would have thought it a little angry for your tastes.]

[Perhaps you do not know me as well as you think you do.]

[Perhaps. Alas, I must leave you for the night. We'll talk again. Good luck cracking my program!]

And as suddenly as it had opened, the chat window disappeared. I realized that I felt irritated at how abruptly my opponent had cut off our conversation. I was surprised when I evaluated the evening and realized that I had actually enjoyed our game.

When I looked at my tracer programs, I was unsurprised to see what they had found – nothing, as usual.

It was time to run the Challenge program.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Text typed by Heero is in brackets. Text from not-Heero is bracketed by "/." Thanks again to everyone who left reviews, and a special thanks to Solaris for beta reading! I hope to have the next chapter out as quickly as this one.

CHAPTER NINE

After I finished chatting with the hacker, I felt the need to clear my mind. It is not something I am proud of, but except for my recent discussions with the other pilots, my conversation with the hacker was the most communicating I had done with another human being in a long time.

I did Tai Chi for an hour, meditated for thirty minutes, and then ate a small salad for dinner. I was surprised at my lack of appetite, and made a mental note to pay more attention to my appetite and food intake.

Once I was calm enough, I ran "Challenge."

I was unsurprised when the screen went black. Were it not for the almost inaudible whirring of my hard drive, I would have wondered if the computer was even still on. After approximately twenty seconds, a command prompt appeared. There was still nothing else on the screen.

I frowned and thought back to my training in command prompt usage. I tried multiple commands, all to no avail. I wondered what would happen if I could not get the program to proceed. Would I be able to at least return to my desktop? I was also surprised by how displeased I was at the notion of failing to rise to my opponent's challenge. But how to make it continue?

I sat back for a moment and closed my eyes. I thought about my mysterious hacker. I thought about computer programs and languages. From some almost-forgotten corner of my mind, I remembered "Eliza," an early program that had sought to simulate natural conversation. Eliza had focused on psychiatric problems, but other programs since had improved on the same idea of making a computer do a phenomenal job of simulating a real conversation. Perhaps I needed to try having a conversation with the program, and I knew what my first attempt at communication would be.

[Hello.]

Instead of the blank prompt, text now appeared on the screen.

/Why hello there! And congratulations on picking the right word! What's up? /

[My ceiling.]

/I guess that's true. /

After about two minutes, the program typed to me again.

/You're not very talkative. And although it's against my better judgment, I'll give you some information about how the rest of this will work. To win, you will need to talk to this program. As you chat, you'll unlock challenges - but you can only unlock them by communicating. And you can leave and save your progress at any time by typing !SAVE./

When I didn't respond after a few minutes, the command prompt appeared again.

/You can start anytime. :-) /

Hn. I decided to start out easy and bland.

[How are you today?]

/I'm good. How 'bout you? /

[Fine.]

So much for that line of conversation. I discovered that the difficulty in needing to chat to proceed with the program was that I do not know how to converse. The other people that I have spent a lot of time talking to, like Duo and Relena, are natural conversationalists who move things along effortlessly.

[What should we talk about?]

/*sigh* You're supposed to be doing the work here, you know. How about music? /

[I like music.]

/How fascinating. You realize, of course, that they did a study a few years back that showed that ninety-six percent of people claim to enjoy listening to music? /

[I had not heard that.]

/Now you know. /

I decided that perhaps I should expand on my earlier statement.

[I like many different kinds of music.]

/That's an improvement, but I know you can do better. Is talking really that hard for you? /

I gritted my teeth. Apparently the program had been written with a bit of an attitude.

[I do not like the sugary space pop that is so popular today. Do you?]

/I like some of it. What else do you not like? /

I thought for a moment.

[I do not like music if it is just screaming and other noise.]

/Sure. So what do you _like_? /

I pondered how to answer.

[I like music that reflects the vastness of human experience. And I like music from all eras of humanity. I like some very modern music, I like some pre-Colony music.]

/Any examples? /

[Modern music: Polar Colony, Tabu Kryzgx, Kanji Siren.]

/That's quite diverse. /

It was a fair assessment of the names I had thrown out. Polar Colony is a band known for producing melodic pop/rock with quirky, clever lyrics. Tabu Kryzgx is a modern composer who makes atonal symphonies with computers. Kanji Siren is an Earth band that does something that I would describe as orchestral space rock. It has the driving futuristic sound of space rock, but makes dramatic use of a full orchestra. In general, it was fair to say that the artists probably did not normally share much of an audience.

[Pre-colony music: Barenaked Ladies, Nine Inch Nails, Beethoven, Kate Bush.]

/No big surprises there . . . except for Kate Bush. Isn't that chick music?/

I glared at the screen.

[I am not aware of it being "chick" music.]

/Just kidding. So you think these artists display the vastness of human experience? What about _your_ experience? /

I did not answer immediately. Truthfully, I did not know how to answer. I had never thought to apply music to my own experiences. After a few minutes of silence from me, the program prompted me again.

/Tell me, Agent Yuy. What's your favorite song by Kate Bush? /

[Pull out the Pin.]

/And what is it about? /

[A soldier during a war, who is watching an enemy combatant. He does not want to kill, but he knows he has to because he loves his own life. He knows his enemy will kill him if he does not pull the pin of the grenade in his hand.]

I frowned thoughtfully as I reviewed the song's lyrics in my head.

[He dislikes his enemy, claims that he stinks of "the west." He catalogues all the ways that they are different, like he is trying to justify his actions. Then as he gets close enough, he can see in the man's eyes. The man is stirring him to violence, but even then he is conflicted. He sees little life in his enemy's eyes, but thinks about the man's wife as he kills him.]

When long enough had passed that it was clear I was done with my description, the program prompted me again.

/But that doesn't have anything in common with any of your own experiences? /

I froze for a moment in shock. I could feel my heart rate increase as my mind processed the question – and the correct answer to it.

[!SAVE]

/Saved. See you later. /

And then my normal desktop reappeared as though nothing had happened.

I thought about the song. Of course it applied to me, to what I had done during the war. How had I not made the connection before? I opened the music folder on my computer to listen to the song. I realized, for the first time, that I liked the song because I empathized with the singer. Unbidden, a memory rose in my mind.

***

_I had been sent to infiltrate an Oz base that was suspected of having discovered a newer, stronger metal alloy, similar to Gundanium. My job was to get in, hack the computers to learn what had been discovered, and then get out. On my way out, I was to cause as much damage as possible._

_And I did._

_Data cell safely tucked away inside my clothing, I made my way toward the exit of the base, blowing previously-laid charges as I went. _

_After the first few bombs went off, there was mass chaos inside the base. Soldiers were all around me, some panicking, some trying to get out, some trying to give orders. All of them were too busy to pay any attention to me. _

_At least, until I got about a thousand feet from the bay that I was going to exit from. _

_There, in a hallway beginning to fill with smoke, someone finally realized that I had no business being in the base. _

_The man who stopped me was a young soldier, no more than twenty-five years old by my estimation. We were alone – lucky for me, but terribly unlucky for him. When he saw me at the end of the hall, no more than ten feet from him, his eyes narrowed and he trained his gun on me. _

"_What are you doing here, kid?" he barked. _

_I did not give him the benefit of an answer. Instead, I raised my own gun and shot him twice. I never broke contact with his eyes. They widened and a strange expression crossed his face as he slumped to the floor._

"'_M so s'rry, Sarah…" he whispered before taking one last gurgling breath._

_I stepped over him and increased my pace. I would have a difficult time explaining things if someone chanced upon us in the hall._

***

I gasped and hunched over. I felt the unfamiliar sting of tears in my eyes, although I did not cry. Yes, I knew what it was like to be caught up in a war, forced to kill or be killed.

I knew what it was to inflict death on a person even while realizing that they had loved ones who would be left behind.

I too have pulled out the pin.

I thought about other songs that I have been particularly drawn to, and realized that many of them speak directly to things that I have experienced in my life.

It was shocking.

It was discombobulating.

It was frightening.

I began to realize that my feelings about myself were wrong.

For so long, I had thought of myself as a weapon, as something other than human. I had believed that no one else could be the same as me. I had believed that I could not and did not feel like other people.

I have used those beliefs as a shield. I have used them to justify pushing away the people in my life. I have used them to push away my own feelings. I have ignored the wisdom that Odin Lowe passed on to me so long ago.

I have done everything but follow my own feelings.

I have lost sight of how I feel.

But as I listened to "Pull out the Pin" again, and felt the squeezing pain in my chest as I thought about what I had done during the war, I began to wonder if Odin Lowe was right after all.

Something felt so wrong inside of me that I thought perhaps it would have been better to stay ignorant.

And I wondered how I was going to manage my meeting with Commander Une tomorrow with this sick feeling inside my chest.

Shaking slightly in reaction, I shut the computer down and went to get ready for bed. I was only slightly calmer as I crawled into bed and a fitful sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Thanks to everyone who left reviews and to Solaris for her wonderful beta work. On a note of misfortune, I will be out of the country for two weeks. I don't anticipate posting anything during that time, although I hope to get plenty written. So… there will be nothing new for two weeks, but there should be a lot after I get back. Also, this chapter ends rather abruptly (I wanted to get what I had posted).

CHAPTER TEN

I woke Friday morning with a pounding headache. I felt marginally better after breakfast and a shower.

I was at Commander Une's office at 9:55 a.m., eager to get our meeting over with, although I was still unsure of how much I was going to tell her. I hesitated in the door to her office. When I did not immediately enter, Une waved a hand.

"Sit, Agent Yuy."

She stared at me, but the glare from her glasses made it impossible for me to read her expression.

"How have you been since our last meeting?"

"Good," I answered.

Une looked surprised at my answer before smiling warmly. "I'm glad to hear it. I take it you are adjusting to life outside of this building?"

I nodded in response. "I am. I have been spending time with friends, as well as continuing to explore other interests."

Une studied me for a moment. "How is that going?"

I debated what to tell her. On the one hand, I did not want Commander Une to know more about me than was necessary. On the other hand, the more I told her about some things, the happier it would make her with me. I also acknowledged the possibility that she might have valuable insight into my thoughts. I decided to tell her about my realization of the night before, although I would not mention what made me come to the realization.

I tried to tell her, but I could not look at her and speak of my innermost feelings. It was simply too private. I compromised by staring out her window while speaking.

"I came to a realization recently that I have been … mistaken about parts of myself for some time now. I believed that I was different from other people, that I was not quite as human as other people. I took that uniqueness and I wrapped it around myself like a shield. I was told a long time ago to follow my emotions, and I have tried to follow that advice. But since I started spending more time from work, I have come to realize that I have confounded my own ability to follow that advice by ignoring my emotions. You cannot act on what you are unaware of. So I am going to try and let myself feel things, and examine my emotions, rather than fooling myself into believing that I do not have any." I glanced at Commander Une to see her reaction, and was slightly amused to find her mouth open in an "oh" of surprise.

As she saw me look at her, she shut her mouth with a faint snap.

"That is wonderful news, Agent Yuy. I am glad that you have found out more about yourself."

Une seemed to hesitate before speaking again. "If you need someone to talk to, I would remind you that we have psychiatrists on staff as part of our medical facilities."

I glared hotly at her and opened my mouth to respond when she held up a hand to stop me.

"I understand that you do not want to go, Agent Yuy. And I am not demanding that you do so. I just simply wanted to make sure that you were aware that such help is available to you."

"Duly noted," I ground out as I worked on smoothing the glare from my face.

Une nodded and then took off her glasses before looking directly at me. I found the effect more than a little disconcerting, but did not look away.

"Heero, let me give you some advice that someone once gave me. It has served me well, so maybe it can help you. Sometimes we realize things about ourselves that we don't like, things that we wish we could change. And for most people, our natural reaction is to think about what we want to change. We tell ourselves that if we can just shift our mindset, we can change something about ourselves." She leaned forward and looked at me intently. "But that's not the right way to approach things. Our brains are complex, slippery creatures who hate change. If you approach change intellectually, your mind will derail every effort that you make to change. Instead, you must _act _differently. Even when your mind screams in protest, act the way you want to be. One day you will find that your head has caught up with the rest of you, and your mindset will have shifted."

She sat back again and waited a moment before speaking again.

"I don't know what you're trying to accomplish, or if you've even given it much thought. I know you must not be happy with the realization you came to, simply from the way you talked about it. Just don't think it to death. Act. Try not to get caught up in analyzing everything."

I digested her advice in silence, and when it became clear that I was not going to respond, Une nodded briskly and put her glasses back on.

"Is there anything else that you need to talk to me about?"

I thought for a moment. I saw no reason to tell her about my hacking project. I was not doing anything illegal or anything that could jeopardize the Preventers. "I do not think so, Commander."

"Then you are free to go, Agent Yuy." Une paused and her voice softened as she said, "And good luck. I hope you achieve something that will make you happy."

I nodded and even managed a small smile for her before I got up and left her office.

* * *

Although I had not looked forward to my meeting with Commander Une, I recognized that I felt much calmer now that I had spoken with her. Perhaps I had been worried about the meeting on some level. Perhaps I was simply glad that she had no inkling of my hacking activities. Whatever the reason, I felt relatively good when I got back to my apartment.

To be completely honest, I felt more than simply calm. I was eager to open the program and continue my progress.

After I booted up my computer and ran "Challenge," the same command prompt appeared, cheerfully winking at me.

[Hello].

/Hey, hey! Did you miss me?/

I pondered my answer for a brief moment.

[I am not sure. Is being eager for something the same thing as missing it?]

/Good question. You should come up with an answer./

[I will think on it. Would you like to talk some more about music?]

/Sure. I'm happy to talk about just about anything with you./

I was not surprised that the program had managed to place the conversational ball in my court.

[Would there be anything wrong with liking "chick" music? You made a comment yesterday…]

/Just a joke. I don't think there's any right or wrong music to listen to. You can correct me if you think I'm wrong./

[I never answered your question yesterday. You asked if "Pull out the Pin" applied to my life experiences. The answer is yes, although I did not realize it until last night. In fact, I have realized that much of the music that I listen to acts as a mirror for my own experiences. It is hard for me to admit that I feel the same things as a songwriter somewhere. Is that wrong?]

/I don't think so. It is difficult for many people to admit that they share common experiences with people very different from themselves. By the way, you've unlocked part of the challenge. Whenever you save, you'll find a new shortcut on your desktop. You're more than welcome to keep talking to me, though. You might unlock more things./

I quickly debated what to do. In the end, my curiosity won out over my desire to attempt to unlock more parts of the program.

[!SAVE].

I was returned to my desktop, and there was indeed a new shortcut: "Bowser."

The name meant nothing to me, but a quick internet search revealed that Bowser was the final boss in a series of pre-colony computer games. I made a mental note to ask Duo if he had played any of them.

After I learned everything about Bowser that I thought could be relevant, I opened the program. A massive grid appeared, with numbers sparsely scattered throughout. I had no idea what it was supposed to be.

I was still trying to discern a pattern to the numbers when a message appeared in a chat window:

/One hint: Nikoli./

Nikoli? The word meant nothing to me.

I went to the 'net to see what I could discover.


End file.
